A Christmas Wish
by RisingStorm15
Summary: It's Christmas at the garrison and D'artagnan is excited to see his first holidays with his brothers, but why aren't the inseparables getting in to the holiday spirit? Or in which D'artagnan sets out to give his brothers the best Christmas they've ever had.
1. Chapter 1

The Garrison seemed alive this week, what with the musketeers preparing to spend Christmas with family and comrades alike. Many of the men walked with a spring in their steps, laughing with each other as the Christmas spirit permeated their battle weary souls.

Treville had even allowed some of the younger recruits hang holly and wreaths on their barracks doors, and around the banister to his office, it seemed even the Captain was excited for the seasonal holiday.

One musketeer in particular skipped over to his usual table, whistling a folk song from his previous home in Gascony.

" You seem in a good mood, pup," Porthos commented curiously as the young man sat down next to Athos with a beaming smile on his tan face.

Athos cast his Protégé an inquiring look as Aramis gave him a friendly punch to the arm.

" Constance say something to put you in this good cheer?" Aramis asked cheekily.

D'artagnan feinted an insulted look.

" I don't require Constance's compliments to be happy, do I?"

Aramis and Porthos snorted at his comment, and Athos's usually stern face lifted in a slight smile.

" No, but it certainly helps," Aramis teased around a bite of his apple.

D'artagnan snagged a fresh bread roll and started chewing away, pausing momentarily to answer their earlier question.

" I'm in a good mood because I happen to have some great surprises planned for a certain group of special people in my life," He revealed brightly.

" Why?" Athos asked simply.

D'artagnan almost laughed, but the equally confused looks from his other brothers had him reconsidering. He couldn't believe his brothers could be so blind to what was going on in the garrison, and more importantly, what was coming up at the end of the week.

" Don't you know what Friday is? Of course I have surprises planned for Christmas!" D'artagnan exclaimed, casting them a bewildered look.

At the mention of the impending holiday, the mood at the small wooden table instantly dropped, and his brother's eyes seemed to darken slightly. Athos's frown became more pronounced and his fists curled slightly in his lap, eyes hardening to a stone like intensity. To D'artagnan it seemed as though his mentor and father figure was reliving a terrible memory.

All of his friends seemed to be in the same predicament, Aramis's expression becoming pained and haunted, his skin paling slightly, and Porthos who was usually loving and kind seemed to want to punch someone badly.

" What's wrong with Christmas?" D'artagnan asked innocently, genuine worry for his friends shining in his brown orbs.

" Everything," Athos responded curtly.

" None of us celebrate that holiday," Aramis growled lowly.

As if in unison, his brothers got up from the table and left, going their separate ways for their assigned tasks of the morning, and leaving D'artagnan sitting alone and very much wounded at the table, gazing at them as they left.

Athos had never had a good Christmas since Thomas died and his wife turned out to be a murderer. Ever since he had spent his Christmases in a cheap tavern, drinking win until the pain numbed, and then sleeping the wine's effects off for the remainder of the holiday. He remembered a time before Milady, and Thomas's death when Christmas was his favorite time of the year. When he and Thomas would go and choose a tree together, and romp and play in the wood while hunting for turkeys. When he and Milady would cuddle by the fire together with hot drinks and kiss under the mistletoe at every chance they got.

Those days were gone, and even the mention of Christmas forced his bitterness to the surface again. Seeing D'artagnan so eager for the holiday brought back unwanted memories of Thomas's excited face as unwrapped gifts in their living room, his twinkling eyes as he thanked his brother with a hug of epic proportions.

 _No_ , Athos though to himself as he left the table, _Thomas is gone, and those days are over_.

D'artagnan couldn't understand what was wrong with his brothers, Christmas was the best time of year! Christmas was a time for being with family and friends and having fun, yet it seemed like D'artagnan's dearest friends would not be doing any of those things, at least not with him.

 _Have I said something wrong_? D'artagnan asked himself as Athos, Aramis and Porthos disappeared.

He had to have done something to cause this to have made them remember an obviously painful experience, maybe he could make things right? Maybe he could show his brothers that Christmas was not a time of sadness and pain, but a time of fun and joy.

 _I have the perfect week planned for you, my brothers_.


	2. Monday

Monday

D'artagnan's plan was in motion and he couldn't be more excited. Operation: Best Christmas Ever had now begun, and the garrison was more than happy to help him execute it. Even Treville was amused at the prospect of having Christmas traditions carried out amongst his men, and agreed to help D'artagnan when the Gascon came to him.

His plan began with Christmas themed meals to get everyone in the mood, and hopefully to brighten the inseparable's view of the holiday. While they were coming back from night duty at the palace, D'artagnan was working with Serge and the kitchen boys to create a traditional Christmas breakfast from his home in Gascon, hoping it would tempt out the inner holiday spirit.

Porthos walked through the gates first, with Aramis following closely, the two were obviously in conversation and Aramis appeared to be teasing his companion as he was prone to do. Athos came close behind, silent and graceful as always, but his wandering gaze instantly locked with D'artagnan's and he smiled slightly.

Porthos and Aramis stopped their friendly bickering as they neared the table and spied the delicious food selection before them.

"Whatever has put Serge in such a good mood this morning?! I haven't eaten these foods in years!" Porthos commented excitedly.

Aramis just laughed happily." I don't care what it was, this is amazing!"

The rest of the musketeers sidled up to the tables and began to eat, sounds of enjoyment emitting from several recruits.

D'artagnan gestured to the table as his friends continued to stare.

" What are you waiting for? Dig in," He invited.

That was all it took for all three to promptly take their usual places and begin to hungrily dig in.

Utter silence reigned in their table until Serge passed by to refill plates.

" I can tell I must have done something right to get that idiot to be quiet," The old cook joked, gesturing to Aramis who had his eyes closed around a mouthful of his favorite croissants.

"You sure did, old friend," Porthos congratulated, sending a hearty pat on the back in the cook's direction.

Serge swatted that man's hat indignantly.

"Oh eat your food boy, this is a special occasion," Serge groused before pacing off to refill food platters at the next table.

D'artagnan and Aramis snorted in amusement as Porthos blushed and continued eating. It was safe to say that none of the musketeers had ever had such a good meal in the garrison.

"I don't possibly think I could train, I'm absolutely stuffed," Aramis moaned dramatically.

Athos sighed in annoyance and picked up his sword.

" Come children, the morning is being wasted and I for one don't intend to waste any more of it," The former comte groused, stealing Aramis's hat to make the marksman move quicker.

Aramis yelped and shot after the older man, jumping to grasp his hat back with a possessive glance that had Porthos chuckling deeply.

"D'artagnan you're with me, Porthos and Aramis, you two are scheduled to be practicing your hand to hand combat," Athos ordered smoothly, smirking slightly at his protégé's excited little bounce.

The two of them waited until their friends had moved off to the side before they unsheathed their blades, never taking their eyes off each other. After the first weeks of training, D'artagnan had learnt that he definitely should not expect Athos to fight fair this was training after all. _Think with your head, not your heart,_ Athos's teaching resounded in his head, reminding the Gascon to not let his emotions rule his movements.

Too often he found himself fighting his battles with pride and overconfidence, allowing Athos to pull him up on stupid mistakes. He was determined not to allow that to happen this time.

Athos was more relentless in his attacks than usual, coming right at the Gascon again and again. D'artagnan raised his sword to block a swift overhand swipe, just barely stopping the blade from connecting with his face, and retaliated with a straight jap at his mentor's midsection.

Athos twisted to the side, letting the jap slide past him and brought his elbows down, trapping the blade against his body, before twisting away and pulling the blade clear out of D'artagnan's hands.

Seeing that his blade was gone, D'artagnan resorted to a more mischievous measure, leaping at his mentor and bringing them both crashing to the ground with a small 'oof.'

D'artagnan rolled off his mentor's back, leaving the older man to recover his breath from the fall, but surprisingly, laughter filled the air as Athos got his breathing back under control.

" Good Lord, it's the end of the world! Athos is laughing!" Aramis joked from where he and Porthos had paused to watch the match.

Athos mastered his laughter and sent an appreciative smirk at his young protégé who was looking at him with wide, innocent eyes, his hair an absolute mess.

" Good move D'artagnan, not a legal one, but a good one none the less," Athos praised, getting to his feet in order to pull the younger man up with him.

D'artagnan smiled up at the older man, looking like a child with his mussed up looks and playfully glinting eyes.

"Haven't you always told me that in a real fight, nothing is legal?" D'artagnan asked curiously.

Porthos grinned, clapping the young man on the back heartily, and sending D'artagnan stumbling forward.

" The whelp's got a point there 'thos," He chuckled.

Aramis grinned widely, steering the young man towards the entrance to the garrison.

" Let's go, we've got a letter to deliver to the palace, and I do believe we must give dear Athos a moment to collect himself," Aramis announced cheerily, ruffling D'artagnan's hair further, much to the young man's disgust.

Seeing the happy smiles and laughter of his friends, D'artagnan couldn't help the satisfied smile that plastered itself on his lips.

 _Step one complete and they're already having fun, I wonder what the rest of the week will be like_


	3. Tuesday

Tuesday:

Step two of D'artagnan's plan had to be arranged with Treville, who had suggested a rather amazing idea to the young musketeer.

Early Tuesday morning he had been called up to the captain's office during breakfast, where the captain ordered him to sit and promptly began scheming up more ideas. It had been too long since the captain had seen such joy in his garrison, and Treville rather liked the positive effect that Christmas was having on his men.

"Every year around Christmas time, the people of France throw a Yuletide festival, which ends in a concert for the king and queen. So many rowdy people in one place means that the king and queen must be guarded closely at all times by a squadron of musketeers, whilst a squadron of red guards patrols the streets as crowd control. This year since you are so desperate to get your friends in the spirit of the holiday, you four will guard the king and queen," Treville discussed evenly.

D'artagnan's eyes lit up with excitement. _I have heard of the Yuletide festival! Father always said it was the grandest festival in all of France! This will definitely get my brothers in to the spirit of Christmas!_

" It's perfect sir! I'll tell them at once!" He chirped excitedly.

He saluted hastily to the captain before scrambling out of his office and down the stairs to his brothers, leaving the captain shaking his head with an amused smile.

Donning his hat and blue cloak he followed the Gascon, though with just a bit more dignity and grace.

The streets of Paris were positively alive with celebration. From almost every window hung colourful fabrics, fluttering ribbons and garlands of bright flowers. Stalls with coloured canopies lined the sides of the streets, and a troupe of dancing and singing young ladies paraded the streets, heralded by brightly coloured children with tinkling silver bells in their hands.

Couples and families strolled hand in hand amongst the stalls and crowds, looking at wares and gawking at all the sights around them.

Nobles on horses rode amongst the crowds, their steeds sporting plaited manes, and flowery tails.

D'artagnan's own mare rode with her brown head high, her mane and tail having been lovingly decorated by the stable boy and his young girlfriend.

His friends rode around him, forming a cross formation around the king and queen as they happily waved to the people who lined the streets to see them, and to the children who threw coloured petals in their wake.

King Louis was beaming with pride and happiness in his golden tunic, crown shining on his head, happy to be a part of 'common life' as he liked to think. In truth, D'artagnan thought that the young royal was just happy to have the day off of boring meetings.

Queen Anne rode side saddled beside him in her festive red gown, golden jewelry and crown gleaming in the sunshine and she happily waved to the crowds, the young dauphin attached to her chest in a red and gold sling for all to see their future ruler.

D'artagnan, Athos, Aramis, Porthos and Treville formed the guards assigned to the royals, and he couldn't have asked for a better group to be attending this festival with, all his friends in one place.

" This is positively lovely, is it not Treville?" The king laughed, eyes wide with awe at the colour and noise around him.

Treville nodded respectively to the king.

" It is your majesty, and the day shall only get better,"

" I don't see how it could," The king chuckled in reply.

Anne smiled further at the obvious joy her husband was feeling, it was part of her duty as a wife to make sure her husband experienced the best Christmas he could. She too had a mission quite like D'artagnan's.

The king was wrong about one thing; the day did indeed get better.

Standing at parade rest behind the royal's seat at the top of the cathedral, D'artagnan had a clear view of the concert being performed on stage by various groups.

Already they had watched the children of St Patrick's Academy perform a popular Christmas song, complete with some young boys playing variously pitched bells in accompaniment. The king positively adored the youngest member of the choir, five-year-old Jean, who sang a small line to himself in his tiny but adorable voice.

A group of Irish dancers had taken over the stage next, and a few of the ladies in the troupe even danced on the tips of swords!

A popular string quartet had filled the air with sweet classical music.

Young men wearing strange costumes had performed a small Christmas inspired play.

Finally, the last act had pranced on to the stage in the form of one young girl in a frilly red and white dress, and a dozen small fluffy white dogs, all decked out in holly leaves and bows.

The king and queen had laughed hysterically at the sight of the tiny red velvet shoes being worn by the canine performers.

Now as D'artagnan and his friends watched with rapt fascination, only occasionally checking the vicinity for assassins and the like, the girl continued to dance with the dogs!

Whens he finished, and bowed jauntily to the crowd, the king and queen gave her a standing ovation, and the air was filled with the sound on clapping from the lower seats where commoners and nobles were seated.

" That was absolutely marvelous! I have a right mind to invite her to perform at the palace one evening," The King announced happily.

The queen took his hand, " That would be marvelous, and I am sure the young Dauphin would love t play with the little scamps," Anne agreed, handing her son to her husband gently.

While the king and queen cooed over the happily gurgling baby, D'artagnan took a moment to review the day's success.

" Gentlemen, how have you enjoyed your day?" He asked hopefully.

" I do believe that has been the best guard patrol I have ever endured," Aramis replied swiftly, gazing fondly at the queen and his son.

" I agree, don't think I've had that much fun in a while," Porthos agreed readily.

Athos didn't say anything, but the slight upward curve to his usual smile told D'artagnan all he needed to know.

Step two had been a resounding success.


	4. Wednesday (fixed)

Wednesday:

D'artagnan slumped at the table as he attempted to wake himself up.

The late hour of their return from the festival had had all four brothers yawning uncontrollably, much to the amusement of Treville, who annoyingly had showed no signs of weariness.

Even the solid hours of sleep he'd endured had not made a dent in his tiredness.

" You look like you could use some coffee," Athos commented when he saw the sorry state of his protégé.

D'artagnan yawned slightly, unable to control the urge to do so and glared balefully at his mentor.

" How are you so awake?" D'artagnan demanded with a pout.

Aramis crossed over to the table with Porthos, ruffling D'artagnan's hair playfully as he went.

" I've asked him that question many a morning," Porthos commented drily.

It was clear that Porthos and Aramis were just as tired as D'artagnan was, and all three only perked up when Serge, seeing their sorry states, presented them with steaming cups of coffee.

" I believe gentlemen, that you have somewhere you need to be in an hour? I suggest you get going," Treville reminded them from above as the man leaned casually on his balustrade.

D'artagnan sat up straight as he suddenly remembered the plans that he and Treville had arranged together. Tonight was supposed to be the execution of his best plan yet! The king had decided that due to his appreciation of the festival he'd attended, he would be throwing a party at the palace in recognition of the festive holiday.

Treville had managed to get the four of them, accompanied by some of the other musketeers, assigned to guard duty yet again, but this time at the party itself. He had shared D'artagnan's plan with the king during the festival, and Louis had been delighted by the young Gascon's clever scheme, and had planned the party to get his own court in to the Christmas spirit.

" Oh yes, the king's festive party, I had almost forgotten," Aramis mused as recognition flared in his sharp eyes.

" Guard duty yet again, it seems as though we are the king's favourite guards at this point," Porthos commented lightly.

" Oh come on, I' sure it won't be terrible, besides, how many times have you attended a party thrown by a king?" D'artagnan put in optimistically.

" Whatever your feelings are on this assignment, we must be going," Athos reminded them lightly.

Aramis, D'artagnan and Porthos downed the rest of their coffee and scrambled to fetch their blue cloaks from their quarters, and straighten out their disheveled looks.

When the sun set on the King's palace the party began.

D'artagnan scarcely recognized the ballroom, as red, gold and green silks hung from the ceiling, tables full of lavish Christmas foods awaited the oncoming guests, and nobles and ladies danced in festively coloured gowns and tunics that seemed to brighten up all who wore them.

" The king really outdid himself," D'artagnan commented, the awe of the scene filling his eyes with wide-eyed wonder.

Aramis and Porthos sniggered quietly at the excited and childish look on their youngest brother's face.

" I believe the queen is to thank for the decoration, she is usually the one to handle most of the styling in the palace," Athos deduced evenly.

" Oh come on, don't tell me you aren't just a little bit excited about the rest of the night," Porthos scoffed to the former comte.

Athos ran a hand through his hair to hide his smile.

" Need I remind you that we are not here to have fun, but we are here to perform a musketeer's duty," He reminded his brothers.

The four split off to the guard their sides of the room and keep an eye out for possible threats to the safety of the nobility in attendance.

Aramis was having a decidedly good night.

Despite his duty, he had talent enough to survey the room for threats while simultaneously flirting with a very eligible and beautiful young woman who had practically attached herself to his side.

" Are you enjoying yourself dear Aramis?" Lady Diane asked, batting her eyelashes at him innocently.

" All the more now that I am graced with your company, guard duty does tend to leave a man lonely," Aramis flirted, evoking a line he had used many a time.

Diane let out a high-pitched giggle and put on a mock scandalized face.

" Oh Aramis, you flatter me," She replied happily.

Aramis was certain that at the end of the night, he would be leaving with at least one woman. Maybe guard duty wasn't so bad after all.

As much as he hated to admit it, Athos was actually enjoying himself at the king's party.

He was stationed the closest to the king and queen, and with a cup of excellent wine to keep him company, he found himself getting in to the spirit of the night.

It helped that Christmas tunes were being played by the same string quartet as they had seen at the concert last night, and sure enough halfway through the night, the little girl and her dogs had been invited to perform again.

Having something to occupy his mind from the memories of his brother, Thomas, trying to get his big brother to help him plan the holidays, helped immensely, and allowed him to feel more free than he had felt all week.

With all the laughter, dancing, and general merriment, the room was filled with a positive mood that permeated even his usually thick skin.

When the night was over and the guests were slowly filing out, the king arose and sidled over towards him.

Instantly Athos was on high alert, and making sure he bowed respectfully even before the monarch stopped in front of him.

" You have done well tonight, you and your fellow musketeers. The queen and I thank you for your services," The king thanked, sounding for all his worth as though it was rehearsed.

" It was our pleasure, sire," Athos replied respectfully.

" Did you enjoy yourself at my party tonight? I daresay it was a resounding success," Louis asked, sounding very proud of his achievement.

" Yes, I thoroughly enjoyed myself, your majesty, and I know my brothers did also," Athos answered, wondering where the king was going with his thread of conversation.

The king seemed to brighten further at his answer, and he sent a pleased look towards D'artagnan, a look that Athos's trained eye didn't miss.

" I was hoping you'd say that, it seems that all the scheming your captain and young D'artagnan have been doing has actually succeeded," The king commented.

Athos's eyes narrowed, but his tone was the same as he smiled at the king.

" Scheming, your majesty?" He inquired pleasantly.

The king chuckled merrily.

" The scheme to make you and your other brothers enjoy Christmas of course, the boy was very determined to see it work. But of course you already know this, so I'll bid you good night. You are released of your duties for tonight," The king revealed unknowingly, before making his way back to his tired, but happy looking wife and baby.

Athos bowed stiffly after him, and his scowl was instantly replacing his former smile.

" D'artagnan," He growled lowly.

Athos spied his friends chatting happily over by the entrance, with Aramis bragging about his night's conquest and the kiss he'd received from the unfortunate young woman.

His gaze locked on to the intently listening Gascon, and his eyes instantly darkened further with anger.

" You, boy, have a lot of explaining to do," Athos growled as he drew up to the trio, eyes fixed on the startled looking boy.

" What? Athos I don't understand," D'artagnan replied, surprise evident on his youthful face.

" Oh yes you do, all this idiotic scheming behind our backs with Treville and the king!" Athos snarled, his anger making him appear a foot taller.

D'artagnan shrank back, hurt in his eyes.

" Athos, what do you mean scheming behind our backs? What's gotten in to you?" Porthos grumbled, fixing a confused glance on his friend.

Usually Athos and D'artagnan were never at odds, and this uncharacteristic anger from Athos was totally unexpected.

" That whelp has been conniving with the captain and even the king himself to make us celebrate his stupid Christmas," Athos revealed to his friends, whose moods soured immediately.

" Is this true, D'artagnan?" Aramis asked dejectedly as he turned to face their youngest friend.

D'artagnan's wide-eyed look was enough, showing his worry at being caught out in his scheming.

Porthos growled lowly before pushing D'artagnan up against the wall behind him by grabbing his cloak.

" We told you to leave the topic of Christmas out, that we do NOT want to celebrate with you! How could you go behind our backs anyway? We all have our reasons, and it was not fair of you to go snooping around in them," Porthos snapped, his big hands gripping D'artagnan's shoulders strong enough to leave unseen bruises.

D'artagnan gasped in pain but met his friend's angry gazes with fear in his eyes, fear of them.

" I didn't go snooping in your lives, I have no idea what you have against Christmas, I just wanted to spend time with you, to give you the best holiday I could," D'artagnan whimpered, feeling as though his heart would shatter at any moment.

Athos cast a disappointed frown his way, eyes cold and distant, unloving.

" None of us want to celebrate this or any other year, and nothing you could do will change that. We don't want to spend Christmas with anyone, D'artagnan, especially an annoying Gascon like you," He muttered.

D'artagnan sent a pleading gaze his mentor's way, tears threatening to spill from his glistening eyes.

" My brothers please-" D'artagnan began desperately.

" Save it D'artagnan, just leave us alone. We will not hear your excuses, just LEAVE!" Aramis spat furiously.

Porthos let D'artagnan go and the boy cowered away from them, one small sob escaping him as he began to flee, looking at his brothers just long enough to allow them a glimpse and the pain and tears in his eyes.

And with that, D'artagnan's heart broke as he sprinted blindly out in to the night, tears clouding his vision as he sobbed and ran. He didn't hear the omnious rumbling of thunder far away, nor the beginnings of rain hitting his skin, he didn't even know how long he ran for. Step three had been a failure, and apparently, so was he.


	5. Thursday (part one)

Thursday:

The day before Christmas was supposed to be a day of excited anticipation, when children and adults alike finalized Christmas preparations and travelled to meet up with their families. There was one family, however, that was not whole and who were not together.

D'artagnan raised his head off of the cold muddy ground blearily, not sure how he got here, wherever here was. The pain however, was something he did remember from last night. The pain in his upper arms from Porthos's furious grip, the burning pain in his leg from tripping over the log and falling down the hill, apparently his foot was cold from loosing a boot at some point. However the most excruciating pain of all was from his broken heart.

He didn't care about Christmas anymore, the only Christmas wish he had now was that maybe, just maybe, his brothers could somehow forgive him, and call him little brother again.

But as the rain slowly pattered down on his prone form, and the warm tears slowly leaked from his eyes, he found himself coming to the realization that his wish would go unanswered.

" You seem to have misplaced a member, where is D'artagnan?" A stern voice inquired from above.

The three inseparables were seated at their usual table, eating their breakfasts halfheartedly. None felt like eating at all, especially on Christmas Eve, when their tension was high and bad memories were at the forefront of their minds.

Looking up, they spied Treville leaning on his balcony and looking down at them with concerned eyes.

" Don't know and don't care," Aramis stated in reply, the anger in his voice so present that it was almost touchable.

Treville picked up on it instantly, and seeing their identical expressions of anger at the though of D'artagnan, his concern for the young Gascon only grew.

" Gentlemen, step in to my office, we need to talk," The captain ordered tersely.

Sitting at his desk, Treville waited whilst his men filed slowly in to the room, all looking a little worse for wear. Where was D'artagnan? Today was meant to be the biggest day of his plan. If he wasn't here then something had to have happened, and judging by Aramis's angry reply, the young man's disappearance probably had to do with these three men.

" Aramis, would you care to explain why you replied so angrily a moment ago?" Treville invited tensely.

Aramis's face showed weariness but a hint of chagrin.

" I apologize sir, the anger was not directed at you," The marksman apologized, causing Treville's concern to skyrocket.

On the outside, he appeared impassive, but inside his thoughts were churning.

" And pray tell, who were you angry at?" Treville interrogated.

" Who we are all angry at, D'artagnan of course," Porthos interjected, the bitterness of his tone surprising Treville greatly.

Porthos was a loving, big hearted man and for him to be so angry at anyone was a shock. Unfortunately his reply also heightened Treville's worry for D'artagnan.

" What has he done?" He asked worriedly.

Athos's eyes flashed dangerously and after a moment's hesitation he began.

" The boy was scheming against us, trying to manipulate our opinions on the holidays when we clearly told him we did not want to have any part of them. He kept secrets from us, dragged people in to his plans and snooped in to our lives where he was NOT wanted, brothers should not do such things" His lieutenant growled angrily, his whole posture rigid.

Treville found red tinting his vision, and a sudden anger rise of the concern he had previously felt.

" You all feel this way?" He inquired coolly.

Their silence was all he needed for his emotions to break through like a floodgate.

" What happened to D'artagnan?!" Treville snarled.

His three men looked slightly nervous, but after looking at each other fro a moment, Porthos took over.

" He took after the truth came out, coward," Porthos replied evenly, spitting out the last word in disdain.

Treville let his anger loose, and standing up and stood, anger allowing his to seem to tower over them all.

" That 'coward' has the kindest, and purest heart of any man in this garrison!" Treville thundered." He did not snoop in your affairs, all he wanted was to make your three happy, and he pleaded with others to help him because he couldn't do it on his own. He wanted to alleviate some of the stress you seemed to be carrying towards the holiday, and he gave up his own happiness to make sure he could organize the best holiday you had ever experienced in the hopes of helping you. There were no selfish or cowardly reasons behind any of it! That boy loves you, and you undoubtedly break his heart over a holiday!" Treville ranted, fury in his every word and move.

" With respect sir, you know why we won't celebrate this season, you know the pain it brings," Athos murmured, eyes downcast after his berating.

" And do you know why he wanted to celebrate with you so much? Why D'artagnan chose to do what he did? In Gascony, Christmas is a time for love and family, neither of which he has. His farm is gone, his parents and family dead, his love interest off with another man, you three and this garrison are all he knows, and all he has left. He is weighed down by sadness this holiday, remembering all he has lost, and if he could help you forget just a little of your pain, he would move mountains to do so," Treville revealed, a resigned note in his tone.

Silence reigned over the room for many minutes, in which Treville watched a myriad of emotions flit across his men's faces.

Finally, it seemed like the emotion they finished with was guilt.

" We….did not know, sir. We thought his reasons to be selfish, but we see the error of our ways," Porthos murmured quietly.

" So you forgive him?" Treville asked.

After a moment's hesitation, all three answered in unison. " Yes".

" Well then what are you waiting for? Go tell him that!" Treville ordered.

Quickly, they dashed out of the office and went to mount up.

" Godspeed gentlemen, I hate to think of what our young one has gotten in to in your absence".

The pain D'artagnan was feeling was like fire, burning through his whole body and leaving him almost breathless.

It was strange, judging by how long he had been in the rain, it should have been cold, but all he felt was hot, burning heat through his whole being, especially in his leg.

" 'thos, 'mis, 'orthos, p-please f-find me. I-I'm sorry," D'artagnan murmured through cold lips, exhaustion weighing him down.

Tears of pain and heartache streamed down his face.

" I'm sorry, I'm sorry," He murmured over and over again, not even consciously aware of doing so, his voice getting weaker and weaker as darkness threatened to overtake his vision.

Strange, he could have sworn he saw three figures skidding down the slope towards him, shouting his name desperately.

Tears streamed fresh and new down his face, why did his delirious illusions have to be so cruel? As he repeated 'I'm sorry' quietly, he new that his brothers would not be coming to save him.

' _We don't want to spend Christmas with anyone, D'artagnan, especially you'_

' _Just leave us alone'_

' _Don't want to celebrate his stupid Christmas'_

' _Annoying Gascon'_

' _Whelp'_

' _Just LEAVE'_


	6. Thursday (part two)

The sky was beginning to darken when they found D'artagnan.

After they had left the Garrison, they'd made their way to the palace where they had last seen D'artagnan. With guilty hearts they'd remembered the terrified face of their brother before he'd taken off towards the woods rimming the South side of the palace. If that had been the direction he'd ran, then they would have to start there.

Trekking through the woods with soft rain falling around them and soaking them through, Athos couldn't help but worry about his protégé.

So far they had come across no footprints to allude to the direction D'artagnan had taken, but the ground they were currently walking on had many small plants tat had been crushed or flattened under the boots of someone who appeared to have been running.

Following the trail of flattened foliage, Athos could only hope that it was indeed D'artagnan they were following, not some random peasant or traveller.

They walked in silence, no one really wanting to speak at this moment as they were all wrapped up in their own minds, their own guilty thoughts.

 _I said those things about him, called him terrible things and made my brother run away. He may be hurt, injured or sick all because we wrongly accused him. I'm sorry D'artagnan._

Aramis, who was in the lead due to his sharp eyes that picked out the details of the trail, stopped suddenly, causing Porthos and Athos to almost crash in to him.

" Why did you stop?" Athos asked.

Aramis held up a hand for silence while he closely observed the ground before them, and after a moment began to speak.

" The trail ends here," Aramis simply stated with worry colouring his tone.

Instantly, Athos' concern for his little brother swelled.

" He could be in the area, all indications show that he stopped here," Aramis noted.

" Let's comb the area in circle formation, see what we find," Athos suggested.

With a short nod of approval, his two friends stalked off to circulate the surrounding area.

Athos moved to the right of the trail, carefully picking his way through the dense foliage covering the dirt below, sharp eyes missing absolutely nothing.

It was these sharp eyes and his rigorous training that stopped him from falling down the hillside.

Athos hadn't even realized there was a hillside there, in fact, if one was not already scanning the ground carefully, he or she would surely fall. The drop off was covered in dense foliage, sprawling ferns obscuring the view of the rather steep looking decline.

 _I would have seriously injured myself if I hadn't noticed… Thank goodness it wasn't dark when we came across this place._

That thought sent a rush of relief as he realized how lucky he was, but a moment later a sickening thought hit him.

 _A man running through here in the dark, not caring where he was going would easily have fallen here! Especially if he wasn't paying attention to the ground beneath him…_

Athos instantly lay on his stomach and stretching out over the top of the hillside he cast his eyes down the steep slope to the bottom.

It took him a few moments but after a closer look his eyes widened, and terror filled his body.

" ARAMIS! PORTHOS! I found him!"

It took longer than he would have wanted to reach the Gascon laying ominously still on the forest floor. They had to scramble carefully down the slope to avoid the same fate, and they almost slipped several times. Finally they reached him, and Athos threw himself down by D'artagnan's head, feverishly placing his hands on his protégé's neck to make sure he wasn't dead.

To his great relief the boy's pulse was evident under his fingers, much slower than it should have been, but it was there.

" I'm sorry… s-so sorry…" A small voice murmured, weak and tiny against the sounds of the forest and their frantic breathing.

Weak as it was, it sounded like thunder to Athos, who while Aramis and Porthos checked over his friend, took the time to look in shock at the face of their young boy.

D'artagnan's eyes were open slightly, gazing up at him with wide eyes, small tears dripping down his dirty cheeks.

Athos gently held his head, stroking his hair soothingly.

" You have nothing to be sorry for," Athos murmured gently, sending a glance at Aramis to work fast so they could get him home.

" I-I wish you…were real," D'artagnan sobbed softly before his eyes fluttered closed and he went limp in Athos's hold.

Aramis swore loudly as he made his way to the Gascon's legs.

" He's dislocated his knee, I can't treat it until we get back with all that swelling. Porthos help me lift him," Aramis ordered.

Athos didn't register their scramble back up the hill or the makeshift stretcher they made to carry their brother home, he didn't register anything until they reached the infirmary, his movements were mechanical, his mind a thousand miles away. His only thoughts focusing on the desperately pleading eyes of his little brother, eyes pleading that what he was seeing was real, and lips that formed the words 'I'm sorry…' over and over again.

D'artagnan hazily blinked open his eyes at the feeling of a soft warmth enveloping him, of cold hands disturbing that warmth.

Where was he?

He could hear muffled voices but it was as though he was underwater. He vaguely registered a hand steadily carding through his hair, and his foggy eyes caught on the blurry face of a man he would unmistakably assume was Athos.

A burst of pain from his injured leg brought his clarity, and a long whine echoed from his sore throat.

The hands disappeared from his leg, and two other faces filled his vision, faces filled with relief and concern.

" Sssh, D'artagnan, you're safe now," Porthos murmured, his voice rumbling deeply.

" You hurt your leg and we're going to help you but it might hurt, so hold still as much as you can," Aramis advised soothingly, putting a supporting hand on his shoulder.

D'artagnan blinked lazily, still unsure of what he was seeing.

His brothers cared?

They weren't angry at him anymore?

Was this a dream?

It had to be, for reality was harsh and painful.

Athos's face suddenly filled his vision, and strong hands pushed down firmly on his shoulders to keep him pinned to the bed. Concerned eyes peered at him from above, and D'artagnan decided that this was a nice dream if Athos was in it.

" What're you d-doing?" D'artagnan slurred tiredly, gazing up at his mentor confusedly.

If this was a dream, he wanted to know what in the world was going on, something about legs?

A heavy pressure was applied to his legs and pelvis and he whimpered at the sudden, unexpected touch, eyes straining to see past Athos.

" Ssh…..Settle D'artagnan," Athos murmured.

D'artagnan was having a strange dream indeed, why did his friends want him to settle down? What were they doing to him?

" Hold him down," He heard Aramis mutter.

He only had a moment to wonder why they would need to do that, when pain lanced through his entire body, sharper than his father's sword and burning hotter than any fire. It radiated through his very bones, causing him to screech in terror and pain, eyes darted around frantically for what was causing such pain. Before he could react, another wave of pain, strong than the first had him screaming again until the pain started to ebb away to a pulsing agony which was only slightly better, and his throat was so hoarse that all he could emit was a series of exhausted whines and whimpers.

Throughout his pain and terror, he didn't notice Athos's guilty and concerned face swimming above his, or the gentle words being murmured to him, not until the hands loosened and his limp body was left without their pressure. It was then that D'artagnan could take stock of the world around him again.

" That's a good lad, just breathe little one, it'll be over soon," Athos's deep voice murmured close to his ear, and he clung to it like a lifeline.

He hated this dream, this dream was painful and it hurt, but the only thing keeping it from becoming a nightmare was the concerned, loving faces of his friends, his brothers. Faces that had snapped at him and sent him away were now full of love for him, and it made his broken heart soar just to think that this may be real.

Aramis was murmuring to Porthos quietly, something about a draught that would put him to sleep for the stitching? D'artagnan did not understand why someone needed stitching, and he pitied whoever was about to be drugged.

Athos' hands were back and this time they were carding through his hair, soothing away the last of the pain and keeping him calm.

His eyes were half lidded from the warmth and the rhythmic stroking, so much so that he didn't realize that a cup was being put to his lips before liquid was filling his mouth, foul, foul liquid that tasted absolutely terrible on his tongue. The presence of hands on his throat, massaging his skin caused his throat to open and the liquid to be swallowed against his will, and he whined softly at the forced intrusion of liquid to his system.

At least he terrible taste was ebbing away, or was he? For a dream this was surprisingly vivid, and maybe the darkening of his vision should have alarmed him, but for some reason it didn't.

As his dream started to slip away, he caught sight of Aramis with a gleaming needle and thread in hand, and felt a slight pressure on his knee that caused him to twitch and shift away slightly.

"No you don't, stay still and let it take you, D'artagnan, go to sleep," Athos reprimanded softly from beside his head.

D'artagnan whine again in exhaustion, he did not want to sleep! But for some reason his libs were heavy and his eyes were closing against his will, and slowly but surely, his dream fell away in to darkness.

As the you Gascon's eyes drooped and he limply flopped on the bed, Aramis got to work, sewing carefully along the wound in D'artagnan's leg which had previously been stuck through with visible bone.

Sending the bone back through the skin had not been pleasant, and D'artagnan's screaming and struggling had been an obvious testament to that. Setting the leg straight once the bone was back in had been even worse, and he had hated every minute of it.

But the climax of it all was when D'artagnan was succumbing to the draught and he had been muttering quietly about how 'sorry he was', and how 'he wished this wasn't a dream', not that Aramis thought he consciously knew he was doing so.

" He thought it wasn't real, Athos, that we hadn't saved him," Porthos murmured heartbrokenly, his eyes heavy with pain as they gazed at the limp Gascon.

" I know, and when he wakes up we will do everything in our power to convince him that we truly are here and that we are sorry, and you know what, I think I have an idea of how we will cheer him up afterwards," Athos schemed, never once leaving the side of the slumbering boy.

Tying off the last stich, Aramis couldn't help but find himself wishing that doctor's could fix mental issues as well as physical, that stitches could stitch close the broken heart of a brother. His Christmas wish was one he hadn't though to make in a long while, he wished with all his heart, that his brother would be back with them on Christmas, day, where he always belonged.


End file.
